Page 54 of Delicate Storm

Mom pays us no mind as she reads her book in a separate cabana, opting to stick to the shade like the clever person she is.

I consider swimming, but instead lay my head back, taking a moment to breathe.

I’ve just closed my eyes when the door bangs shut and I jump along with the person who just came through, eliciting the smallest of smiles from my lips. From my position on the other side of the pool, I have a clear view of Paige as she walks in, her bikini-clad bronzed skin reflecting the sun, like she’s wearing some kind of shimmery lotion.

She makes herself comfortable on a lounge without noticing any of us and unfolds a large spiral notebook. My brows furrow as I watch her—the book is too big for writing in—but when she pulls a pencil out of her bag and starts drawing with small strokes, it all makes sense—she’s an artist.

Something about that has me smiling, but I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s creative. There’s no denying I’m curious about her. But unlike her, I haven’t done any research. Yet. Though I have to admit, she’s tempting me.

While my mom and Keeley are oblivious, I sneak glances at Paige, my mind crowded with thoughts about what she could be drawing and what else she does in her spare time. She has me wanting to pull out my phone and search her name, only I’m worried that any movement will break her concentration, and I’m not ready to shift my gaze. I’m enjoying the view too much.

Twenty minutes pass in silence until my mom coughs, and Paige blinks as though snapped out of a strong daze before she glances up and gapes, clearly surprised.

My lips curl into a grin, but instead of smiling back, she looks away, fumbling her things as she attempts to subtly close her sketch pad before securing everything under her chair.

When she looks my way again, I tuck my hands behind my head and raise an eyebrow, smirking when her gaze shifts to my abs. I’m just about to flex when I’m interrupted.

“Is that Paige D’Angelo?”

Jesus. If I had any liquid in my mouth it would have just burst out of me. I internally cringe before slowly glancing at Keeley, preempting her teasing expression. But when I look over, her eyes are firmly locked on Paige as she stands.

“Paige?” she calls out, drawing the attention away from me. “I’m Keeley. We didn’t get a chance to meet yesterday, but I work for the Storm football team.”

Paige straightens in her seat, her eyes briefly flashing to mine, before she glances at the cabana Keeley and I were sharing, alone, since Mom’s on her own in the shade. I picture her mind whirring and cringe. Nope… that’s my sister. I need to clarify that ASAP.

“Hi Keeley.” Paige waves, standing when Keeley reaches her, a warm confident smile in place. “I remember seeing you, but God, I met so many people.”

“Oh, totally understandable. Do you live here?”

“I do. Do you?”

“Me? No. I wish. I’m here with my brother.” She points to me over her shoulder, and I flash Paige an awkward smile when her gaze follows. “He’s on the team. But you may not have seen him because he was likely brooding away in the back. It’s kind of his thing. East!” she calls out. “Come over here. It’s Paige.”

The excitement in Keeley’s tone piques Mom’s interest, and the next thing you know she’s sitting up and looking between me and the girls.

“Who’s Paige?” she asks quietly with a frown, as though Keeley and I are keeping some big secret.

“She’s our new owner’s daughter. We were all introduced to her yesterday.”

“She’s pretty.”

“I better go over,” I say, ignoring her comment. “I don’t want to be rude.”

“Since when?”

“What?”

“That’s never bothered you before.”

“Yes, but when it comes to the big boss's daughter, I have to make an effort.”

At that her face falls, and I internally cringe for worrying her. “Is he making changes?” she asks, and though I shouldn’t, I take that as my out so she doesn’t ask more questions.

“We haven’t figured that out yet, but better to be safe than sorry.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Paige

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